


His Deductions are not always advantageous

by Icanhasallthebenedicts



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Sherlock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icanhasallthebenedicts/pseuds/Icanhasallthebenedicts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is awoken in the middle of the night by the clattering of mugs in the kitchen and investigates, only to find Sherlock with his head buried in his hands and tears rolling down his face. None of the Characters are mine and I have taken quotes and the storyline from The Boscombe Valley Mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the middle of the night and Dr John Watson had already been asleep for majority of the night by now. There was a commotion in the kitchen. John's eyes opened reluctantly as the sound of clattering mugs was heard. He began to grumble to himself as he removed the sheets and began to climb out of bed. He felt the cold air nipping his skin and inhaled quickly. He opened the door to his bedroom and was greeted by a living room full of artificial light. He squinted and rubbed his eyes while lazily flopping his other hand over the light switch until the light had turned off. His eyes quickly became accustomed to the dark and walked over to the only other remaining light source; the kitchen.

John paused at the door of the kitchen where he saw Sherlock Holmes, his flatmate, in his pyjamas and dressing gown sitting by the dining table. The table was riddled with experiment equipment and Sherlock cleared a space to sit with his head in his hands. For a moment John thought that Sherlock was thinking but upon entering the kitchen and being able to see his friend clearer he realised Sherlock had been crying. Sherlock's face was tear-stained and his lips were curled in to form a thin line. Without moving anything but his lips Sherlock asked, "Did I wake you John?"  
His voice was sounded coarse and had broken midway through the sentence. "Y-yes," Said John softly but quickly added, "but I don't mind."

One of Sherlock's hands fell from his face and landed on the table, his other hand rubbed his wet eyes while he sniffed in. John looked at the kettle and realised it had finished boiling. He walked over to the already prepared mug and poured the hot water into it and added milk. Once it was ready he placed it in front of Sherlock and sat next to him. John placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, expecting it to be pushed away but it was left untouched. John was taken aback by this at first but was happy at the idea that Sherlock was open to being comforted.

"Sherlock," breathed John, "tell me what's wrong."  
Sherlock looked up at John for the first time since he had entered the room. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen. A throaty sob escaped his lips and he hid himself behind his hands once again. John was always very compassionate so seeing someone so close to him feeling this much grief upset him also. John shuffled his chair closer to Sherlock and wrapped his arm around Sherlock's shoulder. John felt Sherlock stiffen to his touch but then relax almost immediately after. Both of Sherlock's hands moved onto his lap and he leaned into John's arm, he looked up to the ceiling and sighed.

"John," started Sherlock shakily, "I go through my entire life watching the world. I deduce everything about a person the moment I see them. I see things that no one is meant to see. I see their losses, their failures and their sins," Sherlock's voice was strained from the urge to cry, "I see people's hatred towards me, in the way they look at me and the way they speak and their mannerisms," Sherlock's voice had broken now, " I can see how much they hate me."  
John's heart had broken. Sherlock was looking at John's face to see his reaction. "And now I can see how upset you are. Upset because of me, John, always because of me," Sobbed Sherlock as he pressed his face against John's shoulder. Sherlock could feel the soft, warm fabric of a sleepy John's pyjamas comforting his cold, wet face. He sniffed and tried to hold her tears back.

John placed his other hand around the sobbing detective so they were now in an embrace. John rested his chin on Sherlock's shoulder and said comfortingly, "If you can see all of that then surely you can see all of the happiness in the world Sherlock!"  
Sherlock pulled out of the hug the two men shared and darkly said, "People say I am a cynical man. Do you want to know why I am a cynical man, John?" Sherlock asked crossly.  
 John merely remained with his mouth hanging slightly open. Sherlock continued, not needing an answer, "It's because I've learned that happiness doesn't exist. Sadness is an ever permanent emotion that is only overshadowed by brief, miniscule peaks of happiness. After all the pain I've seen in my lifetime I do not consider happiness to be a true emotion. Only an idea that people use to comfort themselves with."

John did not know how to comfort his friend. John knew there was no way he could see what Sherlock sees, know what Sherlock knows or even begin to understand the pain it causes him. John tried to be positive for Sherlock so he wouldn't be able to read the sadness he felt but he knew it would be no good. Sherlock always managed to see behind the façade. John placed his hand on Sherlock's wet face and brushed a tear away with his thumb, "I really don't know what to do or say for you Sherlock. I wish I did though."  
"It's okay, John," Said Sherlock, calming down now and forcing a smile for John, "thank you for being here for me."  
"I feel like there's more I can do for you though," insisted John "Is there?"  
Sherlock thought for a moment and answered, "Just come sit on the sofa with me please," requested Sherlock as he stood and held John's hand to pull him towards the living room.

Sherlock wrapped his dressing gown around his lithe body and tied the knot to hold it in place before wilting into the sofa. John joined him and they both repositioned themselves to face each other. John frowned as he felt there was more he could do and asked, "Is there anything else you'd like me to do Sherlock? I could get your tea; you left it in th-"  
John was interrupted, not by Sherlock speaking over him, but by Sherlock nestling himself into John's chest. After a pause Sherlock asked, "Is this making you too uncomfortable?"  
John realised he had held his breath since Sherlock had embraced him. He exhaled and began to breathe properly before realising that he was indeed okay with Sherlock in this position. John wrapped one, comforting arm around the detective and used his free hand to stroke Sherlock's thick hair. John smiled to himself and said, "Don't worry Sherlock, this is fine with me."

John leaned his head on Sherlock's and before they knew it they were awoken by the sound of Sherlock's text alert the next morning. Sherlock let out a soft whine before turning off his phone and proceeding to cuddle into John's chest and fall asleep again. John kissed the top of Sherlock's head and continued to doze off happily.


	2. Chapter 2

Moments later they were awoken by John’s phone blaring its loud ring-tone. John reached to the coffee table where he had left it, disturbing Sherlock in the process. Sherlock grumbled as John answered, “Hello?”

Sherlock grumpily dug himself back into John’s chest while John continued his conversation, “Yes that sounds very strange indeed… What time would you like us to be down there? Oh okay Lestrade, see you soon.”

John’s voice was awake and gleeful when he said, “Sherlock, Lestrade’s got a case for us,” John grabbed Sherlock’s shoulders and moved him to an upright position, “Serial murder! Your favourite!”

Sherlock’s face fell, he didn’t want to admit to John that he wasn’t up for a case today. He decided he had to admit it if he didn’t want anyone to see him in his current state, “John… I don’t want to go today,” he rushed.

“What?” Asked John confused, Sherlock only said no to boring cases.

“I would rather stay here with you,” explained Sherlock while looking into the kitchen.

“It’s nice of you to say that but I know when you’re lying to me. I’ve picked up on some of your tricks you know,” said John.

Sherlock made brief eye contact with John again but did not speak. John asked after a sigh, “Is it still the thing from, erm, last night?”

 

Sherlock lifted himself off of the sofa quickly and effortlessly, “tea John?”

John huffed as he tiredly lifted himself off of the sofa and followed Sherlock who had made his way into the kitchen and was preparing two cups of tea. John got the milk out of the fridge, try to avoid the cow tongues and pickled goat’s teeth. John stood behind Sherlock and admired his figure. John wanted to embrace Sherlock from behind, to rest his face against his shoulder but he could not tell whether what happened last night was a one time thing or Sherlock and himself admitting their feelings for each other. John wanted to ask but he knew Sherlock was never vocal about his emotions so all he did was place the milk down on the counter next to the mugs and rummaged through the cupboards until he found a pack of digestives they could share.

 

Sherlock had finished preparing the teas and placed one in front of John who was sitting at the dining table. Sherlock sat himself down with his own tea. John popped a biscuit into his mouth whole and nudged the pack to Sherlock. Sherlock smiled quickly at John and nibbled a biscuit. They sat in silence; it was not an awkward silence but a comfortable and familiar silence. John noticed that Sherlock had barely taken a bit from his biscuit but has abandoned it on the table. “You’re not going to eat anything Sherlock?”

“I have, _see,_ ” said Sherlock as he held up the scarcely touched biscuit.

John raised his eyebrow while looking Sherlock dead in the eye “you know that’s not even near good enough,” John took a mouthful from he tea while he watched Sherlock pout and continued, “finish the biscuit and I’ll be happy”

Sherlock stormily forced the whole biscuit in his mouth and smiled childishly with his cheeks bulging with biscuit.

John looked into his mug while he tried to conceal a smile.

 

“So Sherlock,” attempted John with a rather concerned look, “will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Sherlock was mid-sip when John asked this. He paused to look at John’s face and gulped his tea noisily, “You know John,” Sherlock answered while closing his eyes and folding his arms in front of him.

John cleared his throat softly and felt vaguely guilty about making Sherlock admit it. “I’ll call Lestrade then,” said John as he stood and walked to the living room, he paused at the kitchen door and said, “We can spend the day in,” and smiled.

Sherlock looked at John while he smiled grandly, like a child. John stood and admired the man’s face before smirking to himself and turning around to call Lestrade.

Sherlock stayed in the kitchen while John made up some story about helping Mrs Hudson move furniture.

John returned after his call had ended and said as he fumbled with his hands, “I can pop a film on my laptop if you like.”

John could feel Sherlock analysing every inch of him. He watched as Sherlock’s eyes glided over his body, effortlessly extracting information. John felt his cheeks grow hot and he nervously shifted his feet.

Sherlock realised he was making John anxious and said “sure,” while rising from the table and placing his mug in the sink while walking over to John.

 

John looked up at Sherlock and said, “I’ve got the DVD’s in my room, want to come and pick one or should I choose?”

“I’ll come with you,” said Sherlock while following John into his bedroom, “I wouldn’t want you to pick anything boring and obvious, John”

John walked over to the shelf where he kept his DVD’s and gestured for Sherlock to pick one. Sherlock went through the list about three times before raising his hand and hovering over a film and then lowering his hand again. John shifted impatiently and Sherlock frowned at the DVD’s and said, “It’s not my fault you have a boring DVD collection, John.”

“Just pick one,” said john frumpily.

Sherlock quickly pulled a film from the shelf and turned to John with The Lord of the Rings Trilogy box set in his hands.

“I thought you’ve seen this one,” asked John confusedly as he knew Sherlock had already seen them all.

“The Hobbit’s coming out soon and I thought we could re-watch them to get ourselves excited,” Said Sherlock as he smiled.

Sherlock opened his mouth to talk but closed it to think for a moment longer, “Where will we watch it? The sofa will be uncomfortable…”

John’s gaze drifted momentarily to his bed before snapping back to Sherlock, “I dunno…”

“We could always lie in your bed,” Said Sherlock as colour filled his cheeks.

“Erm- Yeah,” John cleared his throat and felt his cheeks burn, “let my get my laptop then.”

 

John left the room and returned to find Sherlock sitting cross-legged on his bed. The light was streaming in through the window and dancing through his hair. The light formed shadows on Sherlock’s face which amplified his beauty.

John stood and stared at Sherlock and Sherlock smiled sweetly at him as he climbed onto the bed next to him. John placed the Laptop at the foot of the bed and both men lied on their stomachs as John popped in the film.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock folded his arms under his chin when the film began and John used his hands to prop his head up comfortably. Sherlock had a childlike excitement about him whenever he would watch a film of the television and John noticed this. John would usually watch Sherlock when he was like this. It was a rare sight indeed. The film proceeded to play and John became increasingly aware of the fact that his and Sherlock’s sides were pressed together. He could feel Sherlock’s hip bones and warmth pressing against him. John was fighting the urge to lean into Sherlock badly while Sherlock was obliviously absorbed in the film.

 

John and Sherlock were so close John could smell Sherlock’s musky scent. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes while enjoying the scent. Before John knew it he had been relaxing, breathing in Sherlock’s smell, for so long that he had fallen asleep half way through the film. John’s soft snoring had distracted Sherlock from the film. He watched John as he slept so peacefully and comfortably. Sherlock moved his body closer to John’s and lowered his face as to be level with John’s serene face. Sherlock leaned his head against one of John’s shoulders and allowed himself to enjoy the soft, woolly fabric of John’s jumper caressing his face. A happy sigh escaped Sherlock’s lips and John stirred in his sleep and grumbled sleepily before returning to his peaceful state.

 

Sherlock indulged further by nuzzling his nose into John’s jumper and Breathed in the scent of tea and John’s new, woollen jumper. John unconsciously leaned into Sherlock’s touch and rolled onto his side, facing away from Sherlock. Sherlock paused nervously before following suit and rolling on his side to fit into John’s shape. Their bodies were now pressed together and Sherlock’s arm had coiled around John’s waist softly as to not rouse the sleeping man. Before Sherlock had even realised he was tired he had fallen asleep while holding John tightly.

 

Sherlock began to snore softly into John’s ear which roused John from his sleep. His eyes fluttered open and he became aware that Sherlock had fallen asleep while cuddling him. John stiffened and thought about what was happening. John certainly didn’t mind the fact that Sherlock had his arm around him, in fact, he quite enjoyed it. The problem was that he had never been attracted to a man before, well, he had been attracted to Sherlock but he never acted upon it and therefore never had to question it. Now John realised that he wanted to act upon it. He felt his body tingle from the satisfaction of having Sherlock pressed against him and the warmth of Sherlock breathing on the nape of his neck. He realised then that it did not matter whether he is gay or straight, all he cared was that he felt as though he were falling for Sherlock.

 

John turned tenderly to face Sherlock and held him closely. He brushed Sherlock’s thick, curly hair from his face and gingerly stroked his face before placing a breath of a kiss onto Sherlock’s forehead. As John pulled back Sherlock’s eyelids fluttered open and John’s entire body heated up with embarrassment. “John?” asked Sherlock sleepily.  
John remained quiet and kissed Sherlock’s forehead once again. Sherlock’s cheeks filled with colour but he remained composed. “Your body is betraying you Sherlock,” chuckled john quietly.

Sherlock smiled and shifted himself further up as to be at eye level with John.

“It’s not my fault that you kissed me,” countered Sherlock light-heartedly.

“Just imagine what you would be like if I kissed you properly,” said John while bringing his face closer to Sherlock’s.

Sherlock smirked at John; John had always found his smirks beguiling. “Why don’t you conduct an experiment of your own for once John?” suggested Sherlock smoothly.

Their eyes searched the others faces hungrily. Neither of them wanting to wait any longer, neither wanting to restrain themselves further. The air was thick with lust and tension.

 

John slowly closed the space between their faces. Their noses bumped and John drew a sharp intake of breath. John looked at Sherlock and saw that Sherlock’s eyes were focusing on his lips. John closed the space between them and their lips finally met. An overwhelming sensation of warmth and happiness spread through John’s body. Sherlock’s lips felt plump and soft. John pressed his lips against Sherlock’s harder and he could feel Sherlock lips curl into a smile beneath his. John smiled in return. John pulled away and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s. Both men’s breath was heavy. Their eyes connected once more and their lips collided one more, this time with passion and need as apposed to uncertainty.

 

John pressed his body against Sherlock’s and ran his hand to the back of Sherlock’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. Sherlock glided his tongue across John’s lips. John opened his inviting mouth with a gasp. Sherlock explored John’s mouth feverously. Sherlock’s hands were on John’s neck and making their way down to his chest. Their tongues battled for domination but neither succeeded. John pinned Sherlock to the bed and straddled him, never breaking the kiss. Sherlock moaned into John’s mouth. John could feel Sherlock’s hard member pressing against his. John began to push his hips into Sherlock and as their hard members brushed both men’s breathing became heavier and heavier.

 

Sherlock grazed John’s thigh’s, reaching higher and higher until his hands rubbed over John’s boner. John moaned with pleasure as he broke away from the kiss. He lifted himself from Sherlock slightly in order to remove Sherlock’s pyjama bottoms. Their clothes were quickly strewn across the bedroom floor until John was fully naked and Sherlock was merely in a t-shit.

 

Now they lay side by side, their legs intertwined and their cocks rubbing. John’s hand mad its way down to their cocks and grabbed them both. John began running his hand from the base to the tip of both cocks at once. He used the same techniques he would usually use, except this time Sherlock’s cock was included too. Sherlock’s moans began to be more frequent his breathing became heavier. John could feel Sherlock’s cock pulsing against his. He began to work his hand faster and faster, throwing both men into a state of euphoria. Sherlock’s hand flew up and grabbed John’s hair passionately as he roughly kissed him. Sherlock pulled away and brought his lips to John’s ear, “John! I-I’m going to-“

“M-Me too!” panted John between laying kisses upon Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock cried out in ecstasy as he came. The sound of Sherlock’s cries had brought John to orgasm almost instantly after. 

 

The two men lay panting in the bed. They looked into each others eyes and Sherlock leaned forward and kissed John lovingly on the lips.


	4. Chapter 4

John and Sherlock lay blissfully under the covers of John’s bed. They felt each others warm skin pressing against their bodies; it was a relief from the chilly air of John’s room. Sherlock rolled onto his side to face John and covered his shoulder with the quilt and John followed suit. They gazed at each others blushing faces, this made John blush a more prominent shade of red. Sherlock’s hands found John’s under the covers. “Your hands are cold Sherlock,” said John while frowning.

Sherlock smiled and laughed softly, “They always are, I’m tall so I have bad circulation,” explained Sherlock while John reached over and cupped both of Sherlock’s hands in his own.

 

Sherlock was momentarily deep in thought and suddenly asked, “What time is it John?”

John reached over to his bedside table and checked his small alarm clock, “Oh my god, we’ve slept through the day,” John lay back down and continued, “It’s seven already.”

“That means you’ll be wanting dinner soon,” assumed Sherlock.

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry,” admitted John while placing a hand over his stomach.

“Well,” said Sherlock as a smile crept across his lips, “Let’s go out to dinner then.”

John was absolutely dumbfounded and he wore an expression to match. “You, Sherlock Holmes, are going out to a restaurant to eat voluntarily?” asked John while breaking into laughter towards the end.

Sherlock’s face became serious, “It’s not nice to tease people, John,” John could tell by his tone he was slightly offended.

“Sorry, Sherlock, you just hate eating, and public places,” explained John while attempting to subside his laughter.

Sherlock pouted, “but you like eating and public places, so I want to take you out,” explained Sherlock, blushing at his own words.

John felt his heart warm at these words, “So you want to take me on a date?”

“Do you really want me to say it, John?” asked Sherlock, trying to keep himself from blushing further.

John grinned toothily, “Of course!”

Sherlock buried his face in John’s quilt and admitted, “Yes, John, I would like to take you on a dinner date!”

John pounce onto Sherlock and hugged him tightly, “You’re adorable!”

Sherlock stiffened and whined, “No I am not!”

John kissed Sherlock on the top of his head and said, “I’m going to have a shower, start thinking about getting ready,” before he picked up his pyjama bottoms and left the room.

 

Sherlock covered himself with John’s quilt and breathed in deeply. He enjoyed the scent of John for a few moments longer before emerging for air. Sherlock wanted to continue to lie in his lover’s bed but decided it would be best to pick something to wear before John finished showering in order to be ready quickly. He slid out of John’s bed and felt goosebumps forming on his exposed skin and recoiled back under the warm sheets. He gathered the sheets and wrapped them around himself and used them to shield his body from the cold while he made his way to his room and picked out a purple shirt and black trousers.

 

Sherlock heard John open the bathroom door and made his way to the bathroom. He saw John closing the door, he only had his bottoms on and his skin and hair was still damp. Sherlock stood and admired John’s body. John looked up and realised Sherlock had been staring him and redden beneath Sherlock’s gaze, “Your turn.”

Sherlock smiled while unwrapping himself from John’s quilt. John’s eyes explored Sherlock’s body keenly. Sherlock handed John his quilt and cheekily said, “Try not to drool,” before closing the bathroom door behind him.

 

John hugged his quilt as he made his way to his bedroom. Once there he dumped the quilt on his bed an opened his wardrobe. He peered at his clothes, contemplating all the possible outfits he could choose from. After a while of thinking he pulled out a light blue shirt with a pair of dark brown trousers and a thick beige jumper. He laid the clothes on his bed and picked his pair of lucky red pants from his bedside table. John dressed quickly and sprayed himself with his favourite cologne. He walked over to his mirror and examined himself. He was happy with how he looked and walked into the living-room to gather his phone and keys.

 

John was looking around the kitchen table for his wallet. Sherlock entered the kitchen and said, “You don’t need your wallet.”

“Well I can’t let you pay for me,” said John while he continued to move Sherlock’s equipment out of the way.

“I said I would be taking you on a dinner date,” explained Sherlock, “and if I am correct, the one who organises the date is the one who pays. In this instant that would be me, therefore I pay.”

John sighed and smiled at Sherlock’s kind gesture, “It’s not always like that, I don’t mind paying!”

Sherlock took John’s wallet out from his back pocket and smiled, “You can’t if I have your wallet!” and return the wallet to his back pocket.

“You can’t just steal my wallet!” John exclaimed and held out his hand, “Give it back!”

“No,” said Sherlock curtly, “are you ready now?”

John huffed, “Yes.”

“Great, let’s get going!” rejoiced Sherlock as he made his way to the door.

 

John followed quickly and saw that Sherlock was holding the door open for him. John’s heart fluttered at the sight. John stepped thorough the door and said, “I could get used to you being this polite you know Sherlock.”

“So I-I’m acting like a good boyfriend?” asked Sherlock apprehensively.

John stared at Sherlock in awe at how remarkably different he was acting. “Of course you are,” said John while smiling brightly.

John didn’t think Sherlock would want to consider themselves an item and much less admit it. The thought of Sherlock trying his hardest to please John made his heart beat with delight. Sherlock smiled and John gave him a hard kiss on the lips. John made his way down the steps and Sherlock followed once he had locked the door behind him. John handed Sherlock his coat and waited for Sherlock to put it on before opening the door. John’s hand touched the handle and he realised he had no idea where they were going.

 

“Sherlock…” said John slowly, “Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want to go,” answered Sherlock.

“You’re taking me out so technically you should pick,” John said while zipping up his jacket.

“We could go to Angelo’s,” suggested Sherlock as he buttoned up his jacket, “It’s  the first restaurant we ate at together.”

John was astounded that Sherlock had remembered that as Sherlock remembers things like different types of tobacco ash, not where he eats. “Of course I remembered, John,” commented Sherlock as he deduced John’s expression.

John blushed and said, “Thank you,” while he handed Sherlock his scarf.

Sherlock wrapped the scarf around his neck tightly and said, “There’s no need to say thank you John.”

Sherlock reached to open the door and gestured for John to lead the way.


	5. Chapter 5

John and Sherlock left 221b on a particularly frost evening. Sherlock usually walked at a quick pace, slightly ahead of John but this time he walked at the same pace as him. John and Sherlock were making idle conversation when John felt Sherlock’s lithe fingers slide into and mesh with his. John was well aware he would be getting odd looks from people if he allowed Sherlock to hold his hand on the streets, he decided he would take a page out of Sherlock’s book and not care what people thought. John realised that Sherlock made him feel a way that none of his past girlfriends could and no one was going to stop him from enjoying that.

They soon reached Angelo’s. It was as it was the first time Sherlock and John ate at the restaurant; quaint and just slightly shabby. John looked through the large window and saw that the table they sat at the first time they visited was free. Sherlock let go of John’s hand and held the door open for John to enter and followed him swiftly. Angelo spotted Sherlock and John from across the restaurant and shuffled over to the pair quickly, “Hello Sherlock! Hello John! Let me show you to a table!”   
Angelo turned to lead them to a table near the back of the restaurant but Sherlock stopped him, “I would like the one by the window…Please.”  
John smile to himself, he was almost giddy from how happy he was with Sherlock.   
“Of course, of course!” said Angelo merrily as he gestured towards the table for the two men to sit, “Please take your seats.”  
John and Sherlock sat as they did on their first visit. “What would you like to drink boys?” asked Angelo as he brought out his notepad.   
“Larger for me please,” replied John while sifting through the menu.  
“One for me also, thank you,” said Sherlock as he watched John.  
“Excellent!” said Angelo enthusiastically as he flipped his notebook shut and said, “I’ll be right with you to take your order,” before he turned to walk away.   
“Oh, Angelo!” called Sherlock before Angelo ha turned completely, “Could we have a candle for the table?”   
Angelo turned on his heel and grinned a magnificent grin, “Of course!” he replied happily while clapping his hands together and walking off quickly.

John placed the menu on the table and held Sherlock’s hand, “Do you know what you’re going to order?”  
“Me?” asked Sherlock, “Nothing.”  
John looked at Sherlock sternly and said, “Sherlock, you know you have to eat!”  
Sherlock pouted and retorted with, “You know I don’t eat much!”  
John sighed, “How about we share a starter and you can order a small main?”  
“That sounds tolerable,” said Sherlock and pouted.   
Angelo reappeared with a lit candle and placed it in the centre of the table and smiled at the two men broadly while turning again. As he walked away he muttered happily, “I knew it from the start!”  
Sherlock rubbed John’s hand with his thumb as they decided what to order and made frivolous conversation while they waited.   
Angelo placed the drinks in front of the two men and flipped his notebook open once again and asked, “What would you like?”  
“Could we haaaave… The Mozzarella Dough Balls to share for starters and could I have the Tagliatelle, please” answered John while handing Angelo the menu.  
“And for you Sherlock?” beamed Angelo.  
“Risotto, please” Answered Sherlock as he handed his menu to Angelo and drank from his larger.

Angelo took the menus and the men resumed their small talk. The starter came quickly and was placed in between the two men by another waiter. “So it’s basically a ball of cheesy garlic bread?” laughed John.  
“Yes,” pouted Sherlock, “and you want me to eat it!”  
John cut a piece of the starter and held it up to Sherlock’s mouth with his fork. Sherlock looked at John in a nonplussed fashion. “Open your mouth and eat it,” pleaded John, “for me?”  
Sherlock gave John a sullen look before allowing John to feed him. “See it’s not that bad!” said John as he ate a piece himself.  
Sherlock huffed as he picked up his own cutlery and began to eat. John finished off his Mozzarella Ball but Sherlock had only eaten half of his. “I’m done with my piece, John, do you want the rest?” asked Sherlock sweetly as he moved his leftovers to John’s side of the plate.  
“Just because you act all adorable doesn’t mean you can get away without eating you know,” said John acerbically.  
Sherlock cut the remains in half and shoved his half in his mouth. John reluctantly giggled at Sherlock’s childishness before eating his half.

The waiter had taken their plates and cutlery and John ordered two more drinks. Once the waiter had left Sherlock began, “Last night while you were asleep I came across a startling revelation in regards to the football case-“  
“Ah!” said John quickly while raising his hand over Sherlock’s mouth, “No case related talk, this is a date!”  
Sherlock opened his mouth to make a quick retort but decided it would be best to drop it; he didn’t want to spoil his first date with John.  
The waiter appeared by the table and placed the steaming plates of food in front of the men. John began eating eagerly while Sherlock mainly moved his food around the plate and took a small mouthful every so often. Their conversation was full and flowed well throughout their main. John finished his bowl and leaned back in his chair with his hand cupping his belly. Sherlock smiled at him while he slung back his head to finish off the remains of his larger. “Did you enjoy that?” asked Sherlock as he smirked at John form behind his pint glass.   
“Yes,” said answered John with a satisfied smile, he felt butterflies in his stomach from having Sherlock look at him so gorgeously, “Is that all you’re going to eat?”  
“Remember I had a starter, John,” Sherlock reminded John.   
“Barely,” laughed John.

Angelo was at the table along with the waiter who was collecting the plates while Angelo asked, “Dessert menu for you two?”  
John left one hand to rest on his belly but lifted the other up and said, No thank you, I’m stuffed!”  
“I assume Sherlock doesn’t want anything,” chuckled Angelo.  
Sherlock smiled stiffly and nodded.  
“You two know that you never have to pa-“ began Angelo  
“Just charge it to my card Angelo,” Said Sherlock as he quickly swiped his card from his trouser pocket and held it up to Angelo.  
“Of course,” said Angelo as he took the card and walked to the register.   
John and Sherlock stood and gathered their coats. Sherlock walked around to John who was zipping up his Jacket and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “I hope you had as good time.”  
“Of course I did,” ensured John as he blushed.  
The pair walked over to Angelo who had handed Sherlock his card. As they attempted to leave Angelo pulled both of them into a bear hug, leaving both John and Sherlock breathless as the fell out of the restaurant.

Sherlock composed himself and John held his hand eagerly. John pulled Sherlock close to him and put his hand on the back of Sherlock’s head. He felt Sherlock’s soft, bouncy curls between his fingers and stared into Sherlock’s piercing eyes before whispering, “Thank you for such a wonderful night,” and drawing Sherlock in for a deep kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

Their walk to Baker Street was quick. They walked quickly to avoid spending longer than necessary in the bitter, winter air. Both men rushed through the door and closed it swiftly to keep out the cold. John and Sherlock looked at each other briefly before they began to hang up their jackets and scarves. John grabbed Sherlock by his hand and led him upstairs. John paused outside of their door and pulled out his keys while Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s middle and rested his chin on John’s head. John opened the door and walked into the living room as normally as he could with Sherlock attached to him.

 

John stopped abruptly as a soft rustling sound came from the kitchen. John felt Sherlock’s limbs become static around him. Sherlock lowered his lips to John’s ears and breathed, “Stay here while I go look.”

John opened his mouth to respond when Mrs Hudson bounded out from the kitchen and abruptly stopped when she realised Sherlock and John’s position. Mrs Hudson blushed due to the initial shock but was quickly enthralled in happiness for the pair. She threw her arms up and took long steps towards to two men and grabbed their faces and squeezed tightly.

 

Her face switched from a pleased and soft look to a cold and stern glare, “Would either of you care to explain why I have had to find this out all by myself!”

Sherlock felt John stiffen next to him; Mrs Hudson is the only person who could frighten John. Sherlock decided to save John from being verbally assaulted by Mrs Hudson so he strode over to the fireplace as he nonchalantly said, “I’m sure you know we wanted to keep this quiet.”

“And do you think I would broadcast it to the world? Put an add in The Times maybe?” asked Mrs Hudson as she put her hands furiously on her hips.

“I’m sure your writing standard is not high enough to be put in The Times,” replied Sherlock while twiddling a switchblade knife in his hand.

Mrs Hudson stomped over to Sherlock and demanded, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Sherlock stabbed the knife back into the fireplace and walked briskly into the kitchen and Mrs Hudson followed. John walked over to the entrance of the kitchen and peered in. “Yes, we were going to tell you but we wanted to make sure we were sure we wanted to be in a relationship before we told you,” assured Sherlock as he rolled his eyes.

 

Mrs Hudson pondered over Sherlock’s words and was satisfied. She smiled brightly and resumed filling up their fridge with necessities. Sherlock glanced over to John and raised his eyebrows. John entered the room and stood awkwardly by Sherlock. Mrs Hudson looked over at the two sand said, “You don’t have to act like you can’t touch each other!”

John looked at Sherlock and stayed firmly planted in his spot, Sherlock on the other hand stepped behind John and embraced him while resting his head on John’s. Mrs Hudson smiled cheerily and resumed packing the fridge.

 

Sherlock offered Mrs Hudson a tea but she graciously refused as it was time for her evening soother. Once Mrs Hudson had left Sherlock and John stood in the living room staring at each other. John closed the space between them and lightly grabbed Sherlock’s shirt collar and undoing the top button, “what do you want to do now?” asked John.

Sherlock slid his hands around John’s waits and said, “I can put on the fire while you can get a bottle of wine out,” suggested Sherlock huskily while looking into John’s eyes.

“That sounds lovely,” answered john as he pulled Sherlock down by his neck into a kiss.

Sherlock smirked against John’s kiss. John released Sherlock and winked before going to the kitchen and looking for the wine. Whilst John was doing this Sherlock walked over to the fire place. He crouched down and arranged the wood in a way he knew would catch fire best. He had figured out the arrangement from an old experiment he had carried out in his teenage years at a summer camp he was forced to go to. The fire was quickly lit and John was on the couch, pouring red wine into two glasses.

 

Sherlock stood and made his way to the couch and sat with John. They faced each other and drank their wine together. “You know Sher, I don’t know much about your childhood! Why don’t you tell me about it?” Asked John and he made himself more comfortable.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in surprise, “What would you like to know?”

“What was your favourite telly show was a kid?” asked John as he leaned forward, eager to get to know Sherlock better.

Sherlock leaned back and brought his feet up onto the sofa, “Dr Who,” he replied while smirking as he knew it has been John’s favourite show since he was younger also.

John’s face lit up in surprise, “Mine too!” he exclaimed, “Why did you never tell me?”

“I never thought it was important…” admitted Sherlock, “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Favourite books as a child?” asked John as he leaned his head against the couch.

“The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy,” replied Sherlock as he remembered the book fondly.

“I quite liked the book,” said John before he sipped on his wine again, “I hate the film adaptation though!”

 

The night went on. Sherlock and John had finished their wine and the fire was dying out. Sherlock looked at John who looked drained but very cosy as he was surrounded by cushions. Sherlock stood and collected the wine glasses and bottle. “What are you doing Sher?” asked John wearily.

“I’m clearing up,” answered Sherlock as he walked into the kitchen.

John stood up and stretched as he yawned. Sherlock turned in time to see John stretching and smiled as he saw John’s shirt ride up, exposing his belly button. John became aware of Sherlock staring and hurriedly lowered his arms while trying to control his blush. Sherlock laughed while walking over to John and kissed his forehead. John wiped his eyes while smiling, “Bed?” he suggested.

“Yours or mine?” asked Sherlock.

John opened his mouth to answer but was cut of by Sherlock interrupting, “No wait!”

“What?” asked John, alarmed.

“I…I really want to sleep on your bed again! It smells like you…” explained Sherlock, closing his eyes from embarrassment.

John chuckled at Sherlock and said, “Well come on then, my room it is,” as he took Sherlock’s hand and lead him to the bedroom.

 

Sherlock entered John’s bedroom. The bed was unmade and the scent of John filled the air. Sherlock breathed in and enjoyed the scent. John moved to his side of the bed and pulled out a pair of pyjamas and tossed them over to Sherlock, who caught them. Sherlock held them in his hands and watched John open his cupboard and bring out another pair for himself. “I would normally give you my fresh pair but since you like my smell so much… Unless you want the clean ones of course! I’ve only been using those for a day…” explained John awkwardly as he walked back to Sherlock.

Sherlock brought the pyjamas up to his nose and breathed in with a sigh of delight, they really did smell like John, “I would love to sleep in these!” he said reassuringly.

 

The men changed and climbed into bed together. John lay flat on his back and Sherlock rested his head against John’s chest as he cuddled close to him. John kissed the top of Sherlock’s curly head and said, “Goodnight Sherlock, I’ve had an incredible night with you.”

Sherlock smiled into John’s chest and bid a muffled, “Goodnight, I’m glad you enjoyed it” to John.

John pulled Sherlock closer to him and squeezed him.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning John was awaken by the scent of toast and tea. He sat up and leaned against his headboard while enjoying the warmth of the quilts which covered his legs. He looked over to the other side of the bed and was not surprised to see that Sherlock was gone. He knew Sherlock was never much of a sleeper. John closed his eyes again and relaxed for a while. John was drifting into Sleep when he heard the door open. John opened his sleepy eyes in time to see Sherlock, who had already changed out of his pyjamas, step in with a tray and a large smile on his face. “I brought you breakfast in bed, John,” announced Sherlock shyly.

As Sherlock walked over to the bed John asked, “Don’t you want any breakfast?”

“You know I can’t eat breakfast,” answered Sherlock as he placed the tray on Johns lap.

Sherlock walked around them bed and sat on top of the quilt and watched John.

 

John felt slightly awkward as he could feel Sherlock’s eyes on him as he took his first bite from the toast which had been smothered in Jam. As John took the bite from his toast Sherlock leaned in closely to deduce whether or not he was enjoying the toast. John chuckled once he had swallowed and reassuringly said, “Stop deducing me Sherlock, I like it, don’t worry! Plus it’s quite hard to mess up jam on toast.”

Sherlock leaned back again with a blush across his face and an attempted neutral facial expression, “I know,” he lied.

John laughed at Sherlock as he took another large bite of his breakfast. He held the toast up to Sherlock’s mouth and wriggled his eyebrows in order to communicate to Sherlock that he should eat. Sherlock smirked at John’s eyebrow movements, “No thank you,” he chuckled and pushed John’s hand away from his mouth.

John’s finger slipped due to Sherlock pushing it away and got covered in jam. John sighed and put the toast on the plate. As soon as his hand had let go of the toast Sherlock snatched John’s hand and licked the jam off. Sherlock released a moan of delight while slowly pressing John’s finger into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the finger before letting him go.

John’s mouth hung open. Sherlock peered at John’s hands which were pressing the tray down against his lap “Trying to hide something are we?” asked Sherlock.

John cleared his throat, “I-Uh-Well-Er,” he muttered uncomfortably until Sherlock quickly interrupted, “Sorry John, I would normally do something about your little problem but first,” Sherlock sprung up from the bed and continued, “We have a case!”

 

John watched Sherlock bound out of the room excitedly. He looked down at his half eaten toast and untouched tea and frowned. He moved the tray and pouted at his hard on. He knew Sherlock would want to get to the crime scene soon so he decided to ignore it and hop into the shower. He carried the tray into the kitchen and finished off his toast on the way. His tea was now cold enough for him to chug and he placed the mug into the sink, along with the jammy plate. John looked around the kitchen and into the living room but realised Sherlock had disappeared as usual. John shrugged and made his way to the bathroom.

 

John entered the bathroom and removed all of his clothes. He did not bother to lock the door behind him now as there was no reason to that Sherlock and himself were in a relationship now. John opened the shower door and stepped in. He turned on the water, closed his eyes and let the hot water fall onto his face. Once John’s whole body was wet and warm he began to lather soap onto his body. He started with his arms, moved onto his torso, bent over to do his legs and then rubbed the soap up and down his shaft. John closed his eyes as he felt his cock grow hard in his hands. He leaned against the wall with one hand outstretched and used his other hand to pleasure himself. His hands moved along his shaft quickly and he moaned quietly to himself as he thought of Sherlock’s warm, wet mouth and the pulsing in his cock became more frequent. John’s grip tightened as he could feel himself coming closer to the brink of orgasm. John began to thrust his hips into his hand. His moans were so close together they were almost continuous until he released a final moan and his cum shot out and dripped down his still hard cock.

 

John released a sigh of relief and finished cleaning himself up. Within no time he was dressed and in the kitchen where he was met by a knowing Sherlock.

John stood uncomfortably while Sherlock’s eyes swept over his body and raised an eyebrow after he had finished deducing. Sherlock smirked as he walked passed John to go into the living room. John stood, glued to where he stood, with a deep shade of red invading his cheeks. Sherlock turned his head to look at John and saw that John had not moved. Sherlock walked back so he was behind John and, with both hands, squeezed John’s bum and whispered, “It’s okay, I can see you were thinking of me,” Sherlock kissed John’s ear and said, “I like it,” before quickly moving back into the living room to retrieve his keys.

 

John covered his face with his hands out of utter embarrassment and after a pause looked up and followed Sherlock into the living room. “So what’s the case?” John asked.

“Lestrade called and said that a boy’s been accused of killing his father,” explained Sherlock.

“That doesn’t sound particularly interesting…” Said John confused.

“No, but the boy asked for me specifically, he claims not to have done it,” explained Sherlock further, getting excited now.

“Oh?” said John surprised, “Do you think he’s innocent?”

“Let’s find out shall we?” asked Sherlock as he raised his eyebrows before turning and darting towards the door.

John smiled at Sherlock’s enthusiasm and quickly made his way down the stairs. Sherlock was waiting for John at the bottom of the steps with John’s jacket in his arms. John reached Sherlock and took the jacket from Sherlock and said, “Thank you darling.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened, “Er- No problem-Uh- Darling,” muttered Sherlock nervously while blushing softly.

John grinned widely and brought Sherlock into a hug and kissed him tenderly; he thought there wouldn’t be much kissing on the crime scene so he wanted this one to keep him going throughout the day.

 

John moved back from Sherlock once he was satisfied. Sherlock smiled and said, “That was quite  nice John.”  
“The kiss?” asked John.

“No,” explained Sherlock, “Us calling each other darling.”

John pulled Sherlock into a hug and assuring said, “We can do it as much as you like you know!”

Sherlock chucked and pulled away from John. Sherlock looked into John’s eyes. John noticed that Sherlock’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm as he said, “Let’s go solve this case, John!”


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock and John quickly found a cab which took them to Paddington station. They were just in time to catch the 11:15 train. The men shared a compartment sat opposite each other as to face each other. John propped himself up onto his elbows and Sherlock leaned against the train’s backrest. “You know, John, having someone like you, who I can rely on so much, makes a great deal of difference to me,” admitted Sherlock sincerely and shyly.

Warmth stirred in John and his cheeks blushed a soft pink, “Thank you, Sherlock, It makes me happy to hear you say that,” he replied with a smile.

Sherlock smiled back and rose from his seat, “Two coffee’s then?”

“Oh! Yes please!” responded John enthusiastically.

 

John was startled by Sherlock’s abrupt and unexpected entrance. Sherlock chuckled at John’s reaction as he placed a disposable cup of coffee in front of John. Sherlock sat down and stirred his coffee. The strong smell began to perk John up. John sat upright and asked, “Do we have anymore details on the case?”

 

“Yes, while I was waiting in line for the coffee Lestrade called,” He began, “The murdered man, Mr McCarthy, and his son lived on a farm with a man named Mr John Turner and his daughter. The families had known each other for a long time so it is not unusual that they would live close to each other. McCarthy had two housekeepers,” explained Sherlock as though he were boring himself. Sherlock took a gulp from his coffee and continued, “On June 3rd, three in the afternoon, McCarthy walked to Boscombe Pool; a small lake which runs from BoscombeValley. McCarthy told his housekeeper he hand an appointment of importance there. He never came back alive of course! Two people saw him on his way there, an old woman and a gamekeeper, both of which recall Mr McCarthy walking alone,” Sherlock paused to take another gulp from his coffee and John nodded sleepily, “the gamekeeper added that after seeing Mr McCarthy he saw his son follow with a gun under his arm. A girl who is the lodge-keeper of the Bescombe Valley estate was in the woods, going for a walk, when she overheard Mr McCarthy using very strong language on his son and saw the latter raise his hand up as though to strike. She thought it would be best to leave and told her mother about the episode. Moments later Mr McCarthy’s son had run up to the lodge and asked for help as he had found his father dead. Young McCarthy did not have his hat or his gun with him at the lodge, his right hand and sleeve were stained with blood-”

John interrupted, “Did he really give you all that information while you were getting coffee?”

“There was a long queue,” Said Sherlock as he raised an eyebrow.

“Right, carry on,” requested John as he lazily sipped at his coffee.

“Mr McCarthy suffered from repeated blows to the head by a blunt and heavy weapon. It would appear to have been dealt by his son’s gun which was found lying next to him. McCarthy’s son was arrested immediately.”

“Well yeah, I’d expect so,” commented John while leaning forward and rubbing his forehead.

 

Sherlock examined John; he could see that John was tired. Sherlock rose and sat next to John. Sherlock put an arm around the other man and John leaned in to Sherlock. “You could always nap, there’s quite a bit left,” Suggested Sherlock.

John looked up at Sherlock, “Thank you darling,” he sighed before snuggling into Sherlock’s chest and drifting off quickly.

Sherlock enjoyed John’s warmth while listening to his soft snores. Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed in John’s smell while holding him close.


	9. Chapter 9

John and Sherlock arrived in the town and made their way to Boscombe Valley to meet with Lestrade. Lestrade lead them to the Boscombe Pool, where the incident had taken place. The Boscombe Pool was thickly wooded, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the edge. “Right, this is the area,” gestured Lestrade.  
“I can see that,” remarked Sherlock bluntly.   
“Shall we get started then Sherlock?” asked John enthusiastically.   
“I see the coffee’s kicked in John,” noted Sherlock brightly.  
John blushed, as he usually did when Sherlock deduced facts form him but this time he added a slight nervous laughter which made Lestrade raise his eyebrow at them. John cleared his throat and asked, “Shall we sweep the area then?”  
“Yes, let’s, before the rest of these idiots tamper with the crime scene,” scoffed Sherlock as Anderson passed.  
Anderson stopped dead in his tracks and spun on his heals as to face Sherlock. He did not speak; he merely turned his nose up and walked away again. 

Sherlock mainly did most of the deducing while on the crime scene. John watched Sherlock run around the crime scene. Sherlock shouted out various things that John would wire down in his leather-bound note pad. “Ash!” shouted Sherlock from behind a tree, “Indian cigar!”  
John nodded and scribbled down the note with a smirk.   
Lestrade gave John and inquisitive look. John merely shook his head and went back to watching Sherlock scour the area. Sherlock bounded over to John and Lestrade, “I have all the sufficient evidence, let’s go visit Mr McCarthy Junior then shall we?” He asked while starting to make his way to the main road.   
John’s eyes followed Sherlock and then lowered to his bum and watched as he walked away. Sherlock lifted his harm to call for a nearby cab. John looked away from Sherlock and saw that Lestrade was watching him with a baffled expression. John responded by smiling apprehensively and speedily following Sherlock. Lestrade stood dumbfounded for a moment before following the men to the taxi.

Once the men were seated and buckled Sherlock gave the driver the address of the police station in which Mr McCarthy junior was being held.   
“So how long do you think it will take to solve this mystery Sherlock?” asked Lestrade.  
“Two hours or so…” replied Sherlock pensively.  
Lestrade’s jaw dropped in surprise, “Do you have a theory already?”  
“Well you dragged us out to Herefordshire. It takes almost three hours to get back to London so two hours is ideal. But, yes actually, I think Mr McCarthy jun-“ began Sherlock.  
“You mean James!” cut in Lestrade.  
Sherlock glared at Lestrade and continued, “I think maybe someone other than James and Mr McCarth-“  
“Charles!” interrupted Lestrade, once again.   
Sherlock glowered at Lestrade and did not continue to speak. John frowned, he always enjoyed listening to Sherlock speak. Lestrade laughed at Sherlock’s childishness and said, “Oh, continue will you!”  
Sherlock pouted and said, “No, look, we’re here now.”

The men left the taxi and entered the small, red brick, police station. The interior was shabby and run down, many of the police stations in small towns were. Sherlock requested to see James McCarthy but was told that only one person may speak to him at a time. After Sherlock had kicked up a fuss he eventually accepted the terms. He entered and finished within a few minutes. He smiled at John on arrival and began to speak, “James confirms the testimonies of the witnesses, but explains that he went to the woods to hunt, not to follow his father. He later heard his father calling "Cooee", and he found his father standing by the pool, surprised to see him. They argued heatedly, and James decided to return to Hatherley Farm. Shortly thereafter, he heard his father cry out, and returned to find his father lying on the ground. James insists that he tried to help him, but his father died in his arms. James refuses to reveal the cause of their argument, despite the coroner's warning that it could be damaging to his case. James also remembers his father’s last words were something about "a rat", but James is uncertain of the meaning. He also saw a cloak nearby that was gone when he returned later.”

John and Lestrade took a moment to take all of the information in. John nodded to himself to make sure he had gotten all of the information. John and Lestrade were staring blankly at Sherlock before he rolled his eyes and said, “I think James knows who killed his father and is only protecting someone.”  
John’s and Lestrade’s eyebrows lifted in sync.  
“What do we do now then?” asked Lestrade.  
“We need to see his boots, obviously” answered Sherlock.  
“His boots?” asked John quizzically.   
“Yes his boots!” exclaimed Sherlock as he swiftly made his way to exit the police station.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock, John and Lestrade arrived at McCarthy’s house and Sherlock knocked quickly and firmly upon the door. A young, female housekeeper answered the door. “Hello, I am Shelock Holmes, you may have been informed that we’ll be here in regards to the murder. Please show me to Mr McCarthy Jr’s boots,” requested Sherlock quickly,

The woman at the door stood dumbfounded. She looked to Lestrade who held up his police badge and an apologetic look. The woman smiled and held the door open for the three men. She led the way to the coat cupboard and brought out Mr McCarthy Jr’s boots and handed them to Sherlock. Sherlock looked at them closely, inspected the inside and the outside of the boot and asked the housekeeper for Mr McCarthy Senior’s boots and repeated the process.

“Okay…Interesting,” mumbled Sherlock as he tore his gaze from the boot and handed it back to the housekeeper.

 

As the housekeeper got hold of the boot she had made eye contact with Sherlock. She smiled, blushed and looked away quickly. John noticed this and tried not to glare, so instead looked to Sherlock who had noticed the girls’ interest and rolled his eyes. This comforted John but the annoyance was still plainly laid across his face. Lestrade noticed this and shot John a look of confusion which was quickly followed by understanding. John’s eyes widened with the fear that Lestrade may have figured out his and Sherlocks relationship and before he had time to react Sherlock announced, “We must speak privately in an empty room.”

 

Lestrade and John’s stunned faces drew away from each other and focused on Sherlock. “Why?” asked Lestrade.

“I may have deduced who killed McCarthy,” revealed Sherlock with an uncontrollable smirk.

John’s eyes widened and Lestrade’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean by ‘may have’ then?”

Sherlock glowered at Lestrade before explaining, “I need to ask John a few questions first.”

John’s eyebrows drew together, “Me?”

“I need a doctor’s point of view,” clarified Sherlock.

“Oh, okay,” agreed John.

John could not help but allow a smile to creep across his lips. He had always loved it when Sherlock said that he needed him in even the smallest way. Sherlock would rarely admit it to anyone other than John but he deeply enjoyed having John around during the cases, even before he realised his feelings for him.

 

The housekeeper led the men to a large but cosy drawing room and excused herself before shutting the door behind her. Lestrade piped up after a moment of silence, “So what’s going on between you two?”

John’s face grew hunted whereas Sherlock merely looked at Lestrade quizzically.

“Don’t you look at me like you have no idea what I’m on about Sherlock,” demanded Lestrade, seeing through Sherlock’s act.

Lestrade placed his hands on his hips and angled his body towards Sherlock and John, who had unconsciously shuffled closer together. “I’ve seen the way you two have been looking at each other all day an-“

Sherlock cut off Lestrade, “I’ve always looked at John.”

Sherlock folded his arms and Lestrade rolled his eyes and continued, “I know that you’ve _always_ looked at each other. It’s just that this time you look at each other _differently_.”

John brought up a hand and rubbed his eyes, turned to Sherlock and said, “Why don’t we just tell him and get it over with?”  
Sherlock frowned at the idea but nodded in agreement.

Lestrade waited anxiously. Sherlock and John stared at each other, deciding using facial expression as to who would tell Lestrade. Sherlock grew tired of the whole conversation and turned to Lestrade and announced, “John and I are together _romantically_!”

 

Lestrade’s face gave a look of sheer disbelief. The air in the room was crisp with tension. Sherlock and John watched Lestrade as his eyes darted from one man to the other. After a few moments Lestrade questioned, “ _Really_?”

Sherlock looked at Lestrade, annoyed.

“No, no don’t be offended by my reaction. I mean I questioned whether it was true but I didn’t think I was actually true…”

“Okay, well now that that’s out of the way. Sherlock, why don’t you tell us what you brought us in here to tell us?”

“No way! I want to know how it happened! How did you programme Sherlockbot to have emotions?” laughed Lestrade.

John watched Sherlock from the corner of his eye and saw that he was hurt by this. Sherlock looked at the ground and pouted slightly.

John glared at Lestrade angrily and snapped, “Maybe you should realise that Sherlock does have emotions but would rather not show them to people like you and everyone on the bloody police force because you’re always making fun of him. Have you ever thought of that?”

 

Lestrade was taken aback and stuttered, “I- I never meant it- not badly or anything… It was only a joke.”

“Well that’s fine for you to joke around buy maybe you should lay off it for a while,” requested John.

Sherlock took John’s hand and smiled a ‘thank you’ at him.


	11. Chapter 11

The air in the room grew tense and Lestrade became increasingly uncomfortable as memories of picking on Sherlock were brought forth in his mind. John remained annoyed and Sherlock had no idea what to do with himself. Since he always hated uncomfortable social situations Sherlock hurriedly said, “The murderer was John Turner, we’ll be off now,” and with the last word of the sentence he laced his fingers in with Johns and began pulling him towards the door. The two men were almost free from Lestrade until Lestrade spun around and frustratedly asked, “Aren’t you going to explain how you know that?”  
Sherlock paused and looked over his shoulder to Lestrade, “Can’t you just remember all the facts that I deduced from the crime scene? Honestly Lestrade, this is _your_ job after all.”

 

Sherlock left the room and quickly pulled John out and shut the door behind him, leaving Lestrade in the room alone. Sherlock faced John and smiled sincerely, “thank you for defending me John…”

John felt elevated from hearing such an honest thanks from Sherlock and smiled. John held Sherlock’s hand in his for a moment before slowly pulling him in for a gentle kiss. John felt Sherlock’s lips tighten into a smile which made him smile also. The kiss was interrupted as Sherlock heard Lestrade’s heavy footsteps walking towards the door and once again pulled John through the house and to the door. The men heard Lestrade thanking the house keeper for her help and John said, “How about we catch ourselves a taxi and make our way home?”

Sherlock smiled and answered, “I could do with some alone time.”

 

As Sherlock and John made their way to the main road, John called for a taxi to pick them up. They weren’t waiting long before one had come along to pick them up. John had given the driver the address of the train station once himself and Sherlock was sitting comfortably. John was admiring the scenery from the window as Sherlock leaned in to John and whispered, “I can’t wait to get home so I can have my way with you.”

John’s mouth opened from surprise but quickly formed a smirk, he tuned his head so his lips were by Sherlock’s ear and he breathed, “If we get an empty train compartment you can have me before we get home.”

Sherlock felt his trousers tighten and replied, “This is going to be the longest taxi ride ever!” and sat upright again as John chuckled.

 

Luckily, the taxi ride was fairly quick and Sherlock and John were in time to catch the five o’clock train. Sherlock was happy to see that he and John did have a compartment to themselves and the train seemed relatively empty. After a mere five minutes of the train being in motion Sherlock was on John’s lap, feverishly kissing him. John enthusiastically slipped his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock reciprocated. Sherlock had his knees on either side of John and is arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel John’s boner pressing against him. Sherlock began rocking himself against it. John moaned because of the glorious friction. Sherlock moved his lips from John’s onto his neck and began biting softly and gliding his tongue up to John’s ear where he continued to nibble.

 

 John’s groans became louder and his hands hurried to undo Sherlock’s belt. Sherlock gasped into John’s ear as John pulled Sherlock’s cock out and began squeezing from base to tip. Sherlock’s breathing deepened and John was craving touch. With his free hand he undid his own belt and pleasured himself also. Sherlock leaned back and took one arm from around John’s neck and used it to grab his and John’s cock in one hand and began rubbing them together. John was relieved at Sherlock’s touch and moaned whilst biting his lip. Sherlock thrust his hips forward which added to the sensation. Sherlock could see that John was nearing climax. Sherlock let go of his own cock and lifted himself as to allow John to enter him. John’s moans were loud and regular and the feeling of being inside Sherlock was almost too much for him. John grabbed Sherlock by the waist and started lifting him up and down roughly as he thrust into him rhythmically.

 

John moved one of his hands to Sherlock’s cock and began to massage it. Sherlock could feel himself being brought closer and closer to climax with every swipe of John’s hand on his cock. Sherlock leaned into John’s ear and whispered, “John, I-I-” before he could finish what he was saying he grunted into John’s ear. John’s climax followed quickly and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and hugged him until he caught his breath again.

 

Sherlock and John dressed quickly after they had recovered and spent the rest of the train ride in each others arms. Once they had reached London Sherlock quickly hauled a cab and they were on their way to 221B. Once through the door Sherlock and John began taking off their jackets and scarves. Mrs Hudson came out of her flat and walked over to them. She wore a scowl and turned to John, “There is a woman in your flat. She say’s she’s your girlfriend.”

Sherlock watched as the cogs turned in John’s mind, “Shit! Buggar! Bollocks!” whispered John frantically as his hand flew up to his forehead.

Mrs Hudson gasped, “John Watson! Mind your language!”

John groaned and apologetically said, “I’m sorry it’s just…”  
“Just what?” asked Mrs Hudson with her arms folded.

“I… forgot I _had_ a girlfriend…” grumbled John.

“I bloody knew it!” said Mrs Hudson, “Poor girl hasn’t heard from you in days!”

John turned to Sherlock and bumped his forehead into Sherlock’s chest and kept it there, “I am _so_ sorry Sherlock,” he said, muffled by Sherlock’s Jacket.

“I don’t mind John, I can see you forgot. Trust me, I’d know if you were lying,” explained Sherlock rather cockily.

 

John pulled away from Sherlock and requested, “Will you come up with me?”

“You’re not telling her we’re together, I don’t think she’s mentally stable to handle the fact you’re gay,” said Sherlock with a chuckle.

“No! I won’t tell her we’re together and you don’t say… Anything!” agreed John.

Sherlock and John made her way up to 221B. John paused to look at Sherlock nervously before walking into the flat. She was sitting on the sofa, waiting, and her head snapped to John immediately as he opened the door. Sherlock deduced her and knew John was in for it. She got up and walked menacingly towards John. “Hi there!” said John cheerily, trying to act as though nothing was happening.

“John. You were meant to take me out three days ago and you never showed up,” she shouted, “When I tried to call you, you didn’t answer your phone!” she was becoming hysterical and was going red, “THEN you don’t bother contacting me for THREE WHOLE DAYS! I suggest you explain yourself right NOW!”

John’s mouth hung open and to his despair couldn’t bring forth audible words.

The woman put her hands on her hips and leaned forward and hissed, “Off with Sherlock Holmes again were you?”

Sherlock nonchalantly said, “Yes actually.”

John turned to Sherlock and tried not to laugh but failed and let out a repressed laugh.

“So you think it’s funny do you John?” the woman asked again, “You know what, you and Sherlock Holmes can have a very happy life together with no interruptions because it’s over between us!” She spat and slung her handbag over her shoulder before walking away and slamming the flat door behind her.

  
John and Sherlock stopped to listen as she stomped down the stairs angrily.

“At least she wished us a happy life together,” giggled Sherlock.

John burst into laughter alongside Sherlock and sighed. “I can’t believe I ever dated _her_!”

“I can’t believe you dated any of them!” replied Sherlock, still laughing.

Sherlock stepped over to John and hugged him tightly, “Glass of wine and a takeaway for dinner then?”

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist and looked up and said, “The wine is a necessity after _that_ ,” and kissed Sherlock lightly on the lips.


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock walked into the kitchen and opened the draw which held the directory. “What kind of takeaway to you want love?” asked Sherlock loudly while he began to flick through the pages.   
“Guess,” asked John as he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.   
Sherlock paused and looked up at John with a smirk, “Indian,” he replied.  
John smirked and shook his head, “What gave it away?” He asked and went to open up the wine.  
“You’re just predictable,” said Sherlock with a wink and continued to flick through the directory, “Aha! Here’s the number!”  
Sherlock left to the living room to fetch his mobile phone and call for the takeaway. John chuckled and opened the wine with a squeaky pop. He poured two glasses of red wine and made his way into the living room.

Sherlock looked up as John entered, he had just finished placing his order and said “Thank you,” into the phone before hanging up.  
“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” said John as he placed a glass in front of Sherlock and sat next to him on the sofa.   
Sherlock picked up his glass and leaned back while putting his arm around John, “Like I said, you’re predictable.”  
John brought his feet up to the sofa and snuggled his head into Sherlock’s shoulder, “What do I want then, Sher?”  
Sherlock sipped his wine and answered, “Lamb korma and pilau rice.”  
“Hm,” said John, faked grumpily.   
Sherlock chuckled throatily and made himself more comfortable, “The take away will be twenty minutes by the way.”  
“Oh good, it means we have time for a snog,” Said John with a smirk. 

John took Sherlock’s wine from his hands and placed it on the table along with his own. John looked into Sherlock’s eyes and saw they had grown excited. John pushed Sherlock back against the sofa softly so Sherlock was lying down and John climbed on top of him. John could feel Sherlock growing hard beneath him while John straddled Sherlock’s crotch. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s neck and brought him down so their lips could meet. The kisses they shared were soft and long at first but grew shorter and more passionate as time went by. John slipped his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth and rubbed his crotch over Sherlock’s. Sherlock moaned into John’s mouth as John trusted slower and with more pressure. “John,” grunted Sherlock.  
“Yeah?” responded John, moving the kisses to Sherlock’s neck.  
“I don’t think just the once is going to be enough today, why don-” Sherlock was interrupted by the doorbell.

John lifted his face form Sherlock’s neck and looked at the door with a frown, “That’d be the takeaway.”  
Sherlock huffed in annoyance and pressed his forehead against John. John whined and reluctantly got off of Sherlock. He picked up his wallet and left the flat to get the takeaway and pay. Sherlock curled up on the sofa and groaned. Sherlock remained curled up until he heard John coming up the steps. Sherlock sat up as John opened the door and sipped his wine. John placed the bag on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to get plates and cutlery. Sherlock began to unbag the food. John came back into the living room and placed the plates on the table and then the cutlery. Sherlock opened one of the containers and mumbled, “This iiiis yours,” and placed the korma on John’s plate and placed his container on his plate and put the container of rice in between them.   
“What did you get Sher?” asked John as he tipped his korma onto his plate.  
“Chicken curry, though I doubt I’ll eat all of it,” He responded as he scooped a spoonful of rice onto his plate.  
“Go on, have another spoonful of rice please,” requested John in a pleaful manner.   
“That means I need to add more sauce to even it out,” frowned Sherlock.  
“Exactly,” laughed John as he tipped rice onto Sherlock’s plate.  
Sherlock sighed and added the appropriate amount of sauce, which was just a tad less than half, before closing the container. 

John tipped his half of the rice and left the rest to go with Sherlock’s leftovers. John and Sherlock ate their meal and talked happily. Once they had finished their meals and cleared the plates John put the fire place on and Sherlock refilled the wine glasses. The room had warmed up, as had the two men. Sherlock’s cheeks were pink, probably from the wine. John admired the man next to him and kissed his lovingly before happily sighing and retiring into Sherlock’s chest for the evening. That night John and Sherlock knew they would be happy together, as long as they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the cheesy ending but I honestly had no clue how else to end it! I hope you enjoyed my fic :)


End file.
